


I've Known You For Forever

by iamthececimonster



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19398490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthececimonster/pseuds/iamthececimonster
Summary: Ian proposes, Mickey guesses about it beforehand





	I've Known You For Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off of a post on Insta by gallavichinlove. I just thought it was adorable. I love my boys being cute af. Plus I don't think I've ever read a fic where Ian is the one doing the proposing, and honestly I just love that idea.
> 
> Shout out to mah boi Jimmy for encouraging my sappy ass self and also for editing this.

Mickey's certainly closer with his sister now than he ever has been. But like. They aren't the "text you every day" kind of people. They never will be. He's pretty sure she texts Ian more than she texts him, because everybody texts Ian more than they text him. He's fine with that. He only keeps the volume up on the damn thing in case of an emergency. And fuck, the number of things that could potentially go wrong, they make him a little sick. Something could happen to Yev. Or Ian. Or Mandy, Svet, one of Ian's siblings. Sometimes he includes V and Kev and their kids in that. And then his head spins a little when he thinks about the sheer number of people he gives a shit about these days and he has to hide the phone under the ratty sofa cushions for like 15 minutes just so he can breathe again.

So when Mandy starts texting him every single fucking day to ask him "how he's doing," he's more than a little suspicious.

Then Deb and V keep looking at him kinda funny, Kev keeps paying for his damn beers, and even Fiona texted him from wherever-the-fuck she is these days (somewhere warm, or so he's heard). Svet keeps being weirdly nice, even Lip isn't being a total douche. Which is just bizarre. And that goes on for like two weeks. 

So it must be Ian. Fuckin' redhead must be Up To Something. Only reasonable response to this kind of absurdity.

But he pushes it out of his mind. God only knows what the fuckin' carrot top is planning (though Mickey's got a pretty decent idea, and he'd be lying if he wasn't a little bit excited, even if he's been telling himself it's lame), but he knows well enough not to push. That gets you nowhere with a Gallagher. He decides it'll be a problem for a later Mickey. He's got school lunches to pack and laundry to wash and V's dishwasher has a leak and he's been working overtime, so he's a busy man. Then one Friday night, Mickey comes home from the shop tired and sore, but the good kind of sore, and heads immediately for the shower.

Halfway through washing his hair (and briefly contemplating the luxury of being able to afford both enough nice-ish shampoo and enough hot water to be able to wash his hair nearly every damn day), Ian comes into the bathroom. They've long since stopped caring about that kind of thing, so when Mickey hears Ian greet him and the sound of clothes hitting the floor, he just says hey back and smiles to himself. He's careful to arrange his face into vague curiosity by the time Ian pulls the curtain back.

"How was work?" Ian asks, tired but smiling.

Mickey thinks for a moment. He knows Ian actually gives a shit about the answer. "Pretty good. Only one really annoying soccer mom. You?" 

Ian nods, already massaging soap into Mickey's shoulders. "Actually decent. Slow day, which I like." 

Mickey nods, leaning into the kiss Ian presses into his now clean hair.

When they're both clean and the shower is going cold, they step out, and Ian's eyes look like somebody spilled an entire craft store's supply of bright green glitter.

"What, Gallagher?" 

"What?" 

"Why you lookin' at me like that?" 

Ian just smiles. "Will you go somewhere with me?"

"Huh?" 

"It won't take long. Couple hours, maybe. You don't work tomorrow." 

Mickey ponders, biting back his smile. "Will there be other people?" 

Ian shakes his head, grinning. "Nah. Just wanna show you something." 

Mickey quirks one eyebrow and looks Ian up and down. "I like what I can see right now." 

Ian rolls his eyes. "Come on, Mick. Get dressed. Something comfortable."

So Mickey agrees. He puts on jeans (that actually fit), and a clean t shirt (that actually has sleeves and hugs his shoulders in a way he knows Ian will appreciate), combs his hair, and yanks his boots back on (he only has two pairs of shoes). He can see Ian checking him out, out of the corner of his eye, and bites back a grin. But when he follows Ian out of the apartment, he doesn't even bother to try to hide the way his eyes trace the lean lines of Ian's body under the jeans and t-shirt he's wearing.

It's a warm and beautiful night, and impulsively, before he lets himself think about it, Mickey grabs Ian's hand while they walk. Ian laces their fingers together and Mickey lets him.

Pretty quickly, Mickey figures out where he's being lead.

They end up at the baseball field, and Mickey smiles to himself in the dark. He nudges Ian in the shoulder as they head down to their dugout.

"Feeling nostalgic, Carrot Top?"

"Shut up, Mick."

They're sitting on the bench quietly for a beat and Mickey wonders if he should say something, but then Ian kinda jerks next to him.

"Hey Mick?" 

"Mmm?"

Ian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little grey box. "Will you marry me?"

For a minute, Mickey's frozen. Then his brain catches up and he's smiling without realizing it.

"Hell yeah. Fuck. Yeah, of course." 

"Yeah?" Ian opens the box and there's a thin, simple black metal band in it.

"I mean, shit man. We're practically ghetto married already. Have been since we were kids." 

Ian scoffs out a laugh and picks the ring up out of the box. Mickey's breath catches in his throat. In a moment of uncharacteristic softness, he speaks again. 

"Fuck, Ian." He presses his thumb to his nose, and holds his other, shaking hand out to the other man. A man, now. They were boys when they met - when Mickey fell in love with the red haired Gallagher. "Fucking hell, man."

Ian interrupts. "I know, you said, it's just a piece of paper and all that. But..."

Mickey shakes his head. He can barely speak. "Not with you. Never would be with you." 

Ian's crying, a little, when he slides the ring on Mickey's left ring finger. His voice is barely a whisper. "I wanna spend the rest of our lives together, Mick. I want the world to know how much I love you, how much you mean to me. I wanna fight with you and make up with you and grow old with you. I want all that dumb shit. For as long as you're willing to give me." 

Mickey feels the tears in his throat. "You're stuck with me, forever, Ian." 

"Yeah?" 

Mickey feels the warming metal of the band around his finger, and it doesn't feel like choking. It feels like freedom. The way everything having to do with Ian fuckin' Gallagher has always felt like freedom.

"Yeah. Ian. Forever. It's always been forever with you."

"What me and you have makes us free, huh?" Ian's smiling, hopeful-like and gleaming in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah. It does." 

And with that, Mickey practically launches himself at Ian, half laughing, half crying. And they're making out and breathless and somehow 16 again under the half broken floodlights of the baseball diamond, hidden in the grungy dugout, with a soundtrack of backfiring cars and gunshots and chaos and Mickey feels every bit the man he's grown to be and every bit the boy he once was and more content than he feels should be allowed. 

When their breath is caught and they're leaning against the chain link fence with sweat cooling and post-bliss smiles painted across their backlit faces, fingers linked and cigarettes lit, Mickey snickers. 

"What's so funny?" Ian asks, blowing smoke into the pinprick sky.

"I knew you were gonna propose, you know." Mickey smiles around his cigarette and squeezes Ian's hand.

"How'd you know?" Ian's brow furrows, confused.

"Mandy hasn't left me alone in 2 fuckin' weeks, man." He says with a grin. 

Ian rolls his eyes, shoves Mickey with his shoulder, and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the shortest fic I have ever written. Who am I? What is this? 
> 
> Please give me love. I thrive off of external validation. 
> 
> Questions/comments/concerns? My Tumblr is iamthececimonster, but I'm rarely there. So. Just comment it here. Requests also always welcome.


End file.
